Good Bones
by njborba
Summary: If an old structure has good bones there is always hope of returning it to it's original splendor. Morgan and Emily perform some demo work.


Disclaimer: I do not own any rights to the TV series, _Criminal Minds_.

Note: A few days ago there was a really good story posted here that I thought was rather similar to something I'd started a few months ago. So, I figured I'd just scrap mine, but that other author actually encouraged me not to. And, after re-reading through what I had started, I realized that it was distinctly different. I was even inspired to finish it up today and this is the result. Please enjoy.

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**Good Bones  
**By N. J. Borba

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Emily stepped over the threshold and instantly fell in love with the place. It was a disaster area, but she could see the potential. She ran a hand along the oak handrail that curled into a gentle spiral at the bottom of the stairs. It too needed some refinishing work, but even in it's current state it revealed a rich history to her. Emily could imagine the number of kids that had ran up and down those steps, and the parents that had chased after them. She could almost hear their laughter echoing through the house.

Derek welcomed her in with a reminiscent smile. "My dad used to fix up properties like this on his days off from the force and he'd let me tag along sometimes. I guess that's why I do it now. I remember he once told me that if an old structure had good bones there was always hope of returning it to it's original splendor." He raised one brow in a questioning manner. "And this place has got good bones, right?"

"Definitely," she nodded, moving past him and into the living room. Again Emily found it easy to picture a family there. This time they were seated in overstuffed chairs and on a comfy sofa, watching TV or reading, some even playing a game together. Of course, the only real things there were bare walls, dented and scratched from years worth of those families playing and living. "Needs a lot of work, though," she noted, moving her eyes from wall to wall. "A lot," Emily emphasized.

He made a small noise of agreement and pointed toward the assortment of equipment he'd already laid out. "That's why I asked you over this afternoon. I could really use some help with a little demo work." Morgan chose his next words carefully as he regarded her. "And I thought maybe it would do you some good too." He noticed the small furrow that wrinkled her forehead and decided to be frank. "You've seemed a little stressed lately, and there are only two proven ways I know to relieve tension. One sure fire way is demolition work."

"And the other?" Emily questioned. It was an obvious attempt to gloss over his notice of her stress level.

Morgan tried not to let his thoughts go there. "Uh, something the two of us really shouldn't be…" He swallowed nervously and stopped himself before he could say something stupid. "Here..." Derek moved toward the south wall were his tool box resided and picked up the item he'd been eyeing earlier. Morgan presented it to her with almost regal grace, as if it were a royal scepter once used by kings. "I like to call this guy the Persuader, because he can convince just about any wall to fall at his feet."

She grinned at his explanation. "How do you know it's not a girl?" Emily asked as she took the sledgehammer from him.

"Because all tools are male," he replied.

Emily nearly chocked on the spark of laughter that emitted unexpectedly from her lips. "Not even going to touch that one, Morgan."

He rolled his eyes. "Not the kind of tool I was talking about, Prentiss." Derek caught the teasing look on her face. "You know what," he grabbed her shoulders and forcefully turned her toward the east wall of the room. "How about a little less talking and more hitting," he suggested as he pointed to the wall, which divided the living and dining areas. "I want to open this up here and make one larger space. I already deadened all the electrical, so you can swing until your heart's content. It all has to go, the wall board, studs, everything…"

She chuckled softly to herself while hefting her hammer upwards and letting it rest against her left shoulder for a moment. "You're right; construction is a very male centric field. Who else but a man would name a piece of wood a stud?"

Derek couldn't be sure if she was making suggestive jokes on purpose or not, but he decided it best not to encourage her. "Two more things, for safety." He handed her a pair of clear plastic goggles and a white face mask. Then he donned some similar items before they commenced demo.

The two of them worked in silence for a time, at least as silently as one could when wood was splintering and pieces of gypsum were flying. Derek used a smaller hammer and didn't make an attempt to do as much work as she was. He was content to simply show her where to swing and then quickly get out of her way. Morgan had seen her use a gun many times over, so he knew her aim could be deadly. But the way she worked through that wall was something else all together.

An hour later there was little sign that a wall had ever lived there. Derek took the Persuader from her and propped it back against the south wall. He then directed her to the kitchen at the rear of the house. There he presented her with a reward in the form of a bottle of ice cold beer. They drank in silence as well. But something was still bothering him and he couldn't let it go. "You were hitting that wall like it had done you wrong," he finally spoke up.

"You said hit, so I did," she shrugged off his comment. Emily took another drink and then looked down at her jeans and cotton t-shirt. What was once denim and green colored fabric had turned a soft shade of gray. The gypsum wall board dust had covered nearly every inch of her. "I honestly don't think I've ever been this dirty in my whole life," she remarked.

Derek grinned as he inspected her appearance. "That's a shame." He particularly liked the circular indentations around her eyes were the safety goggles had been pressed against her face. When he noticed the peculiar look on her face Morgan cleared his throat. "I just meant, because it's good to be dirty sometimes." Derek groaned. He'd never actually tried to stick both of his feet in his mouth before, but it seemed there was plenty of room. "You know, because it means that you've been exerting yourself and... oh, hell..." Derek couldn't remember a time he'd ever felt so flustered talking to a woman. He finally decided to fall back on the one talent that had never failed him.

Emily attempted to keep a straight face as she listened to him try and talk his way out of the innuendo that kept slipping out of his mouth. It was rather amusing to see the always suave Derek Morgan so flustered. A few seconds later, though, all her mirth slipped away as he reached a hand toward her and brushed some of the dust off her left shoulder. That same hand stroked its way over her equally grit-laden ponytail and finally came to rest at the back of her neck. Without a hint of hesitation she felt him lean forward and press his lips against hers.

The slightly earthy tang of beer mixed with the salty sweetness of his mouth and Emily closed her eyes, allowing herself to get caught up in the moment. When the embrace ended in a mutual separation, Emily took a small step backwards and looked up at him. "Derek, how long have you known me?"

"What?" He stared down at her for a moment, not comprehending. The kiss hadn't been on his agenda that afternoon, not anywhere on the horizon in fact. Not that he hadn't thought about it a time or two before. But he'd honestly only asked her over to help tear down a wall. And somehow they'd both ended up tearing down a few boards in their personal boundary fences. "I'm not sure," he finally formed an answer. "A little over three years I guess."

She nodded. "And in all that time don't you think there might have been a nicer moment to kiss me than when I was completely sweaty and gross?"

He watched as her face turned from serious to a soft shade of lightheartedness. Pleased that she wasn't running for the hills, Morgan kind of hated the next words that formed in his head, but he was still seeking an honest answer from her. "So, who was the tool?"

Emily's smile slipped a little. She brought the bottle of beer to her lips and let it rest against the bottom one for a moment. The cool sensation helped quell the sudden fire he'd lit there a moment ago. "I don't know what you mean." She took a long swallow, trying to deter him again.

"Come on, Em." He leaned against the kitchen countertop and rested his bottle against one hip as he kept his eyes trained on her, not letting her duck his questions any longer. "It's not just the way you were hitting that wall earlier. A week ago in Nashville with that UnSub..." he tried to spark a memory there. "You rarely ever flinch when we work a case, but that time... I've never seen you lose your cool like that before."

She let out a long, deep breath and dropped her right hand so the beer bottle hit the top of her thigh. Emily met his gaze full on as she finally spoke. "His name was Daniel Archer. We dated in St. Louis when I was working there at the FBI field office. He was a nice guy, smart, attractive, worked as a paramedic, always called him mom on Sundays. We had a lot of fun together... for a while."

"And then?" he prompted her when she paused.

"It's kind of funny really," she sighed in a manner that revealed it hadn't been funny at all. "You think you're this well-educated person, a woman of the world, you even work in law enforcement. You think you've seen some of the worst humanity has to offer and you even start to believe you're just a little bit bullet proof. But you're not. It happens so gradually that you really don't recognize it at first. There's a small argument, voices are raised... and then somehow you've got a bloody nose and there are bruises up and down your arms. And you wonder, how the hell did I end up here?" She shook her head and tapped the bottle against her thigh. "No one ever plans to be in an abusive relationship, it just... happens."

Derek heard the word abusive roll off her tongue and it was like a sucker punch to his gut. "But you got out." He tried to focus on the good.

"Not fast enough," she admitted. "I tried to play it off at first. You know, you just don't want to believe you're in that sort of situation. And you start making excuses right away. It's his job, he's too stressed, this is just a phase..." Emily pursed her lips tightly. "Yeah, I got away." She decided just to end it there.

"I'm sorry," Derek breathed out the words. They seemed wholly inadequate, but they were sincere.

"That all ended over seven years ago now and sometimes I think it's all buried and forgotten..." Emily took a quick drink and swallowed it down. "Then that UnSub, he just set me off for some reason." She kept talking, even after she'd resigned herself to shut up. Something about Derek's attentive eyes made her want to delve a little deeper than she ever had before. "I haven't really been in a relationship since then. I've gone on a few dates, but I always manage to find something wrong with the guy, the way he slurps his soup or gives me a blank stare when I mention the name Kilgore Trout. And I try to pretend that it's because I'm a nerd or whatever else, but it's more than that. I just can't seem to..."

"Let your guard down?" Morgan supplied the obvious answer. He watched her bite down on her bottom lip and nod at the same time. There was nothing more he wanted at that moment than to ease her pain. "Emily, we can forget about the kiss if that's what you want. It's really not why I asked you here, though I can't deny I enjoyed it," he let her know. "And honestly, I don't even know where it might lead if we don't ignore it, but... I just want to make sure that you know I'd never hurt you."

"I already know that," she instantly replied. A thankful smile formed where he'd placed that gentle kiss. Emily felt like some of the burden had finally shifted for good. "I know," she reiterated. "So..." Her beer bottle was aimed at him. "Maybe I can come over and help you do more demo work some day. Or maybe even some restoration work." It was the closest she could get at that moment to making any kind of future plans.

Derek caught the undertone of promise in her words, as well as the hidden significance of her use of the term renovation. He wouldn't dare push her, but he was happy for the small opening she'd just offered. "Anytime," he agreed as he clinked his bottle against hers in a toast. They both took a drink to seal the deal. A playful smile then perched upon his lips. "I'll even get you your very own sledgehammer. And you can name it the Emily-inator," he spoke the last bit in his best Arnold Schwarzenegger impression, which was to say, not very good. "She can be the first female tool."

They both laughed at his ridiculous joke, letting the tensions slide further away; allowing themselves to just enjoy the moment. Emily had a feeling the house was happy to hear that melody of laughter running through it's old bones again. She certainly knew her bones were grateful of the positive emotion. There was definitely hope for both of them returning to their original splendor one day.

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**End**


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